The Thing About Bad Pennies

Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown or any of its characters, nor do I make any profit or attempt to with the writing of this or any of my other pieces.

Warnings: Language, homosexuality, sexual situations, etc.

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When Jack looked down he saw his boots planted firmly on level stone, fog swirling around them. To either side of him, a row of conflagrations flickered in perpetual twilight, drawing his gaze forward and up. Then, he was locking eyes with the demonic face and gaping maw that was carved out of the mountainside it emerged from.

The feeling of nostalgia that hit him square in the chest was almost strong enough to make him physically stagger.

It had been a long time since Jack had visited Chase at his home.

As always, the sight of the dragonlord's lair from the outside inspired in him equal parts awe and the creeps—which, frankly, was probably the point.

Nothing to be scared of this time, though, Jack told himself. I'm not here to mooch or beg for help or anything. And he did say I'd be the guest of honor if I came to visit, back in Greece.

Even so, he couldn't help but have a little caution in his step as he moved forward to where the door would hopefully appear. The day Jack could casually stroll towards a giant set of fangs, inanimate or no, was a hell of a long way off.

So, he strolled warily towards the giant set of fangs instead, maybe possibly tensing a little as he came up to the wall of stone and waited to see how it would open. But really, that was just instinct considering how many times the thing had opened on him.

Not this time, though.

With startled relief, Jack watched as the door opened for him quickly and easily, and didn't make so much as a single move towards him.

There was no reason to tempt fate, though, so he hurried on in before it could change its mind.

…and almost immediately skittered to a stop with an embarrassing squeak at the sight of something in the darkness of the hallway, looking up at him with reflective eyes.

The tiger sitting in his path certainly seemed unimpressed. By the time Jack realized that was what it was, his face was heating and he was scowling down at the cat like it had wronged him.

"Shut up," he muttered at its pompous-looking face. "You startled me."

The tiger seemed neither concerned nor repentant, casting another haughty look at him before getting to its feet and turning to prowl down the hall.

Jack watched it go a few steps, not understanding until it stopped and looked back at him with annoyance and 'well?' somehow written on its feline brow.

Oh, wow. I get an escort?

Never mind that said escort didn't seem all too happy about its duty. The gesture was its master's, and to Jack the meaning was loud and clear.

Chase wanted him here, and he wanted him accompanied instead of in custody.

For a man like Chase, that was a big damn deal.

Feeling appropriately flattered, Jack followed the cat without any further delay, letting it lead him to the grand foyer.

Very soon, his eyes were adjusting to new light reflecting off gleaming marble and his breath caught in his chest at the beauty before him.

Not the palatial elegance of the architecture or the vibrant greenery or the soothing sound of running water. That, Jack was plenty used to by now, of course.

But he didn't think he'd ever get used to Chase.

Descending gracefully from the central dais, Chase was gleaming too—with armor. Clad in black silk and shining bronze, his dragon-eye sash tied around his waist and his dark hair spilling freely down his back, he was beyond glorious and Jack stood transfixed as he came to meet him.

"Jack," he greeted, pleasure in his eyes and an appropriately wicked tilt to his grin. "Welcome to the Land of Nowhere."

If his heartbeat maybe stuttered a bit there, Jack was telling absolutely no one.

Instead he returned the grin and did his best to act unaffected. "Happy to be here," he said brightly. "Love what you've done with the place."

The look on Chase's face told him he hadn't quite gotten away with nonchalance. Jack still counted it a passable success, as Chase seemed disinclined to draw attention to it.

Still, a not-so-small part of him was disappointed by that. A few 'days' ago, Chase would've pounced on a lapse like that…but Jack had no right to be disappointed.

He had shut all that down, motives notwithstanding. He wasn't allowed to be disappointed that Chase had done the sensible thing he'd wanted him to do and moved on from his…crush? Lust? Whatever it was, in the ensuing centuries.

"How long did all this take you?" was all Jack said out loud, though, glancing around at the shining extravagance of Chase's stronghold.

"A very long time," Chase admitted. "There were the native species to clear away, water sources to divert, materials to bring in… I did end up having to recruit that labor supply we spoke about."

Jack followed Chase's gaze to the handful of big cats idly loitering in the room. He was sure that there were dozens more all throughout the palace where he couldn't see them, the strongest and most skilled warriors the world had thusfar seen ready to leap to their master's defense at a single command.

"And since you're not just using them for labor, I'm betting you were pretty choosy rounding them all up in the first place."

Chase's unapologetic smile was answer enough.

"I'm still not hearing a number," Jack noticed. "Is it really that bad, that you're trying to spare me the shock or something?"

Chase's expression turned wry. "I've no doubt you can handle quite a bit more shock than that. It has been roughly four-hundred and twenty-nine years since the last time I saw you."

Well. Shit.

"That is longer than it's ever been, isn't it," he muttered, not quite having the presence to make it into a question.

"Considerably," Chase agreed. "A promising sign, don't you think?"

Jack refocused. "Huh?"

"That the instances when you appear are coming further and further apart," he clarified.

Jack still wasn't following. He let his confused expression say so for him.

Thankfully, Chase didn't seem to mind explaining further. "Look around you," he prompted, and Jack did so again.

"Yeah?"

"You've been here before. You know this place. I can see that in your eyes."

"Of course I know it," Jack said slowly. "I used to come here all the time—"

"In the future."

The interruption gave him pause.

Chase pushed forward with the point that Jack thought he was starting to get. "It is now as it's meant to be. Would you agree that I am as well?"

Jack looked him over again too, though he didn't really need to. Chase had been…well, Chase for awhile now. The armor had been the only missing piece, and now…

Jack shook his head. "You're—everything's perfect. As far as I can tell."

Chase seemed pleased by his answer, so either he was on the right track or he'd noticed the near-slip. Possibly both.

"If that's so, you should be relieved. You've done what you set out to do."

Jack startled. "Set out to—no, I've been trying not to change anything!"

"Of course," and Chase didn't seem concerned otherwise. "You once told me it caused you stress, worrying about all the ways you could 'screw up' your future before it could happen. It would seem that now you can relax."

"That's…not entirely true," Jack said hesitantly. "I mean, it's good that… It's definitely good, but my future is, uh…"

Mental math gave him a ballpark of just under seven hundred years. He knew better than to tell Chase the exact number, just in case the dragonlord did something crazy, like remember it.

"It's awhile from now," he said instead. "There's still plenty of time for me to mess things up, and if you knew my reputation, you'd probably agree."

Chase just snorted, apparently amused. "Not knowing your reputation, I can't speak to that, but knowing your intelligence, answer me this: what can you do wrong?"

Jack opened his mouth to reply. Then closed it.

"My home is complete," Chase went on smoothly. "I've gathered an army. I am myself, as you know me. That's all true, is it not?"

"Well… yeah."

"The important things. And now they're all set in stone." He smirked, lightly tapping his foot against the marble floor. "Some of them more literally than others. There's nothing you can do to change those things."

Admittedly true. Jack couldn't undo Chase's accomplishments, and at this point there was nothing anybody on the planet could do to 180 his personality.

Not without a certain Yo-Yo, anyway.

The thought of even that much less to worry about was undeniably a relief.

So much so that Jack didn't notice Chase stepping forward and coming to stand at his left, not until a gloved hand settled on his shoulder.

Chase's eyes were warm when Jack looked up at him. "The real danger's passed now," he told him. "There's nothing you can do now that will have any major consequences. Don't you think so?"

It took him a second to answer. Jack didn't know how not to get distracted when Chase locked eyes with him like that, not from so close. "I guess," he managed and was instantly rewarded with a hint of fang that kicked up some butterflies in his stomach.

Fucking butterflies. Chase never failed to make him feel like a blushing teenager.

Jack tamped it down, reminding himself that nothing could happen, and nothing would happen because Chase wasn't into him anymore, not that way.

It still didn't stop Chase from being completely gorgeous and unfairly charming as he murmured, "So then why don't you relax and let me show you around?"

Jack forced a smile. "The grand tour?"

Chase cocked his head. "Of course," he said, tone verging on playful. "I told you I would. You know I'm a man of my word."

"Of course," Jack echoed. "Yeah, sure, I'd love to see the rest of the place."

"Excellent." Chase's hand slid down from his shoulder, fingertips settling low on his back and pressing lightly. "Come, then."

Jack ruthlessly suppressed a shiver. Keep touching me and talking like that, I just might.

Chase started walking and Jack went with him.

"So," Chase began, distracting him from the hand settled at the base of his spine, "you've been here before. I see no point in a tour of what you know already. Why don't you tell me what it is you've seen of my home?"

"Uh…not much," Jack guessed. "Your front porch, for sure. Very impressive, by the way."

Chase grinned. "You approve, I take it?"

"Assuming you were going for intimidating beyond all reason? You hit the nail on the head."

"Thank you," Chase replied, tone wry. "What else?"

"Well…the foyer we just walked out of, obviously," he said with a gesture behind them. "Your dining room…the pool room, I guess." Jack frowned as Chase made a turn in the hallway that could be nothing but purposeful. He shot the warlord a look. "You already know exactly where you're taking me," he accused.

"Of course," Chase agreed easily. "It is good to know that you haven't already seen it, though."

"Seen what?"

But Chase didn't answer, so Jack let his question lie and held his tongue.

Until they got where they were going, that is. Then, he was speechless for a whole 'nother reason.

Jack remembered looking up pictures once, for who knows what reason, of Roman architecture. The baths had been striking in terms of sheer scale, but the still water and yellowing stone had taken away from what the effect may have been in their hey-day, when people actually hung out there.

Chase's bath was just as empty but it easily left all those photographs and ruins in the dust. For one, it was at least three times as big, carved from the clean white marble Chase favored. Jack definitely hadn't been imagining the Roman flavorings in the structure of the room either, the columns and arches too distinctive to deny now that he was really looking, but it was anything but stagnant or simple.

Several reservoirs of varying shapes and sizes dotted the floor, probably temperature-controlled if the steam rising from a few of them was any indication, all filled with crystal clear water that sparkled in the supernatural brilliance of the room. The sound of running water, from the truly impressive artificial river winding through all the pools, was gentle and soothing and from somewhere, the scent of peaches floated through the air.

In short, Chase's bathroom was nothing less than an exercise in decadence.

"You really don't do anything halfway, do you?" was all Jack could say.

Chase took it in good humor, laughing and bringing his hand back up to Jack shoulder. "You know quite well that I don't, Jack," he chuckled. "What do you think?"

Jack snorted. "It's incredible," he said, lamely in his own opinion. "A lot better than what I've got at home, for sure."

Chase's smile was pleased and his nod regal, but a seed of suspicion entered Jack's mind anyway; one that made him look up at Chase and add, "Kind of a weird place for a tour, though."

"Perhaps," Chase conceded, unconcerned, "but I thought you might best appreciate a visit here before anything else."

Jack paused, parsing the doublespeak. "Are you saying I stink?"

"Why? Would it make you self-conscious if I was?"

Jack blinked, startled at the clear note of teasing in his voice, but before he could even start to sputter something in response, Chase shook his head.

"No need to get bashful, Jack," he murmured, palm dragging down Jack's arm and making him straighten instinctively. "I wasn't insinuating anything about your scent."

Jack wasn't sure what to make of that tone either, but he was hardly ever at the top of his game where Chase and proximity and a low-pitched voice were concerned. He did his best to ignore it. "Then what are you saying?"

"Offering," Chase corrected. "I'm offering you the first proper bath you've had in some time."

The phrase drew Jack up short with a sudden rush of want. A proper bath was something he hadn't had since before Guan's bullshit had started all this. It hadn't even been that good, a quick ten minute shower before heading out that he really hadn't appreciated enough at the time.

Compared to quick washcloth wipe-downs with cold river water whenever he could find a river, heated pools and the promise of actual soap really did sound like heaven.

He turned to Chase and in complete and total seriousness said, "You have no idea how tempting that is."

"I think I have some idea," Chase replied. "You and I are quite alike in this. I can imagine how frustrating it would be to have no way to tend to your appearance."

"Very," Jack agreed with a huff. Then, with a bit of hesitance, "You don't mind."

That made Chase roll his eyes. "Would I have offered if I minded?" he asked. "You are a guest in my home this time, Jack, and I intend to treat you as such."

"Oh… Well, okay."

"Besides," he added, catching Jack's eye, "what sort of host would I be if I didn't offer you a little temptation?"

Jack swallowed.

There are so many ways I could take that wrong.

Not wanting to embarrass himself he took a step forward, out of Chase's loose grip, and turned to face him.

"So," he said, lightly clearing his throat, "should I just…pick a pool or…?"

Chase, of course, was unaffected by Jack's consistent awkwardness. He just continued to look at him with vague amusement. "If you intend to bathe, Mosi can assist you."

Jack no sooner opened his mouth to ask than he noticed the lion sitting back on its haunches just behind Chase, watching him with bored blue eyes.

Jack shut his mouth. "You know," he said conversationally, "I'm about five minutes away from asking you to bell these guys."

"You're criticizing the greatest warriors the world has to offer for their stealth?" Chase wondered. "I rather think they'd take that for a compliment."

"Freaking me out? Sure, they're great at that." But Jack was peeling off his gloves anyway, knowing there was no real point in arguing.

Handing them off caused a moment of confusion though, because of the unusual hands that took them. Human, of course, he'd expected that—but not ones so pale as to rival the whiteness of his own.

Mosi's human form, as it turned out, had retained the blue eyes and champagne-yellow mane of his cat form, but his fur had in no way conveyed the stark lack of pigment in the African man's skin.

He's albino, came the shocked thought from Jack's brain, unable to come up with anything else.

Neither of the men before him seemed to notice, Mosi silently inspecting the synthetic leather of his gloves and Chase glancing over at him.

"Mosi," Chase informed him, "is actually in charge of reconnaissance, when I require it. Naturally, he is the stealthiest of the warriors at my disposal."

"And now you've got him on what, butler duty?"

Chase's shoulders moved in what could've been a shrug. "All of my minions are trained to be versatile," he said. "Mosi just happened to be the closest when I called." Chase paused, raising an eyebrow at him. "You don't intend to bathe fully clothed, do you?"

"Oh! Uh, no, not…no." Jack started fiddling with the clasp of his helipack and then the zipper of his coat. Getting them off, he spent a moment or two untangling them from each other, straightening sleeves, and as an afterthought, grabbing his travel-sized mouthwash from its pocket. He tried to think if there was anything else he might need for his hygiene in there, but was distracted by the feeling of being watched.

When he looked up, Chase was staring at him again. Exactly like back in Thessaly.

What the hell? Jack didn't get what there was to look at, certainly not that intensely. In the past, he had always put weird stares down to the spectacle that was his body: red hair, red eyes, death-white skin, what a weird guy, look at that.

But it couldn't be that now, with Chase. Not with a man like Mosi in Chase's service.

Chase had seen albino skin before, up close and personal if he was hand-training all his minions. It couldn't be that. But the alternative couldn't be right either, the one that made Jack's heart spike with sudden adrenaline.

Because if Chase wasn't looking at his skin, he might just be looking at him.

Does he still…?

"Chase—"

"Would you like your clothes laundered?" Chase asked, which was probably just as well since Jack had no idea what he had been about to say.

"Uh," he said, quickly rerouting his train of thought. "I guess so. If it wouldn't mess anything up."

"Not at all," and Jack watched dumbly as Mosi took his coat and helipack from him. "You'll have your things back before you must leave."

"Thanks," he managed and then floundered in the stiff silence that followed.

There was nothing else he could take off, not in polite company and still qualify as dressed, but Chase didn't seem to be going anywhere.

Jack laughed a little, as casually as he could. "You're not planning on watching me strip, are you?"

Instantly, he cursed himself. Oh my god, did I just say that?!

"If you'd like me to."

Jack's jaw nearly dropped. Oh my god, did he just say that?!

Abruptly dizzy with the feeling of being way out of his depth, Jack was mute and frozen as Chase laughed quietly, touching a finger to his cheek.

"You," he declared, "blush so very vibrantly when your feathers are ruffled."

"I…I don't—"

"You don't have to be shy about your virtue," Chase said, retracting his hand. "I'll take my leave of you, for now. We'll resume your tour when you've finished, if that meets with your approval?"

It took an embarrassingly long time to realize it was a question. "Yeah! Yes, that sounds…that sounds great."

Chase's answering smile was charming and his shallow bow perfectly courteous, but it wasn't until he turned and broke eye-contact that Jack felt like he could breathe properly.

…Well.

Lightly-accented Chinese snapped him back to the present. "Would you follow me?"

"Uh, right, of course."

Mosi led him further into the room, eventually coming to stop beside an apparently random pool and gesturing to it. "This is probably the warmest water you can stand," he said.

Jack eyed some of the others, drawing conclusions. "Chase likes 'em pretty hot, huh?" he guessed.

"Considerably. These are all heated naturally with the volcano's core. The hottest would scald you instantly."

Jack whistled, but let the topic drop there. Mosi was certainly more polite than Chase's tiger had been, but Jack knew well enough by now how to tell when somebody wasn't particularly interested in talking to him.

It made it a lot easier for him to unselfconsciously pull off his shirt and kneel to start unbuckling his boots, the man-lion walking off somewhere else to do who-knows-what.

By the time he returned, Jack was down to his boxers and sitting at the edge of the bath.

"My master indicated that you may be unfamiliar with the uses of these," Mosi said, settling a few items on the polished stone floor beside him.

He, and by extension Chase, was right. The next minute or so consisted of the man briefly naming the purpose of the products he'd brought over: what he could clean his hair with, what to wash his body with, something like lotion that would keep his skin moist afterward, and so on.

There was one awkward moment where Jack had to cut off an explanation of the proper use of a chamberpot for the sake of his dignity, but for the most part it was educational and very useful.

After that, Mosi took his clothing, boxers included— Jack had flushed a little and started to protest his modesty but Mosi had only given him an arch look that reminded him how little of a fuck he gave—and nodded in bland acquiescence to Jack's insistence that all the pockets be emptied before any washing. Then with just a quick instruction of what to do when he was finished, Mosi was gone.

Jack took a moment to breathe, finally alone with his thoughts. And the smell of peaches.

Why peaches?

Knowing Chase, who planned every detail of everything in his life, there was probably a reason; some kind of association that he found pleasant or some symbolism that amused him. Chase's choices were hardly ever impulsive.

"If you'd like me to."

The words drifted back to him, rising up through his thoughts like the steam from the bath.

Far more substantial, though. It was more like a brand than steam, seared in and unforgettable.

Chase had said that. Chase had said that.

Jack slid into the deliciously hot water, his body relaxing even as his mind whirred to life.

Much as Jack listened to loud music at unreasonable decibels, he wasn't hard of hearing so there was no question at all about what he'd heard. Chase had said those words and had to have meant them.

But why?

The obvious answer, of course, was that it was a joke. Chase didn't want to see him naked, he'd wanted to tease him and it had been extremely effective. Chase had gotten the exact reaction teasing would be going for: he had thrown Jack off his footing, left him speechless and blushing brightly enough that Chase had chuckled over it.

A little joke at his expense. Nothing really hurtful, but clearly nothing serious, either.

Or.

Jack went through the familiar motions of personal hygiene on autopilot as he mentally skirted around the other possibility, hesitant to acknowledge it head-on.

He did a pretty good job of avoiding it, actually, and it wasn't until he was washing suds and grease out of his hair that it intruded on him anyway.

Maybe he meant it.

Jack sighed, sinking underneath the water and cursing the fact that he wasn't as stupid as people thought he was. It would've been nice to stay oblivious on this one, but no such luck.

Surfacing after an extended, breath-holding moment of denial, he sighed again.

If that were true, Chase's…whatever for him might not be as done as he'd thought it was and even as the thought sent a thrill through his chest, it also tightened his throat.

Chase wasn't supposed to want that, not in Jack's future and especially not pre-dating it. It was getting to be a very tired old tune and Jack was beyond sick of humming it but it was a big damn deal, and a big damn problem if this particular issue wasn't going away.

But. But.

It wasn't the end of the world, not the one Jack knew and not yet. Wanting wasn't the same as doing, he reminded himself, latching gratefully onto the realization. The knot of tension in his stomach started to loosen as suddenly as it had appeared because Chase hadn't done a damn thing.

In fact, he'd derailed the possibility of doing anything when he'd casually changed the subject and left. That made it seem a hell of a lot like Chase was on his side, and why wouldn't he be?

Jack had kept a lot hidden from Chase about the future—by necessity—but he'd let enough of the good stuff slip. The Chase of Jack's present was powerful, successful, the grand and respectable Heylin prince of darkness and of course Chase would want that. He wouldn't jeopardize all that carelessly, on some stupid whim.

Besides, idiot, he told himself, it's still way more likely that he was just fucking with you.

Self-deprecation, familiar and easy, soothed him in some bizarre way and it was with a renewed calm that he finished his bath. He was sure to consciously savor it this time, appreciating all too well that it could be awhile before he had another one as private and luxurious as this.

Eventually he couldn't draw it out any longer and regretfully pulled himself out of the water, only to find himself staring at a pile of clean cloth— towels that had not been there when he got in.

"Fucking magic," he muttered, but he was smiling as he dried himself off.

When he felt dry enough, he set aside the used towels and reached for the jar of what Mosi had said was lotion.

It was thick on his fingers and when he dipped into it, the scent of it hit him in the pit of his stomach.

Sandalwood, spice, and something that smacked of plum. It was missing the underscore of ozone that Jack was used to, but it was too close for him not to recognize it instantly.

Chase.

Jack hesitated, staring at the dollop of cream on his fingers. Would it be weird to use it? If it were just any old moisturizer, he wouldn't think twice, but the same kind Chase used? The kind he favored even a thousand or so years in the future? It seemed…somehow personal.

Presumptuous, too. Jack could pretty easily picture the aggressive Chase of his adolescence baring his fangs at him for assuming he had any right to such personal effects. The distant Chase of his adulthood, the one he'd left behind in his present would probably just sneer.

This Chase, though…he was downright courteous. He seemed to want to be a good host and he'd offered the stuff in the first place. He wouldn't do that if it were weird for Jack to use it…right?

You're being dumb again, genius, he chided himself.

He put on the lotion. He understood immediately why Chase would prefer it to any other, substantial without being too heavy and lacking any slippery residue.

He wondered idly about his odds of getting some for his own use as he reached over the neat pile of black cloth to replace the lid of the jar and then paused.

Black cloth. The towels had been white.

And they were also apparently gone now, replaced with a folded stack of charcoal silk clothing.

"Alright, well, now it's starting to get freaky."

No one responded, which was par for the course, so Jack just rolled his eyes and picked it up.

It was high quality, but that was to be expected from Chase. The outfit reminded him more than a little of what the warlord wore beneath his armor, likely a spare set fished out of the closet for Jack to wear while his own were being laundered.

Jack appreciated them nonetheless, as well as the pair of sandals resting beneath the silk, and he put it all on with the gratitude unique to a man who had been wearing and sleeping in the same outfit for over a week.

As comfortable as he was in his old jeans and well-worn shirt and coat, the silk felt like heaven against his newly washed, sensitive skin. It fit him surprisingly well for Chase's cast-offs, especially since Chase was taller and broader in the chest and shoulders, yet the pants were just the right length and the top wasn't loose on him at all.

Jack probably should've thought more of that, but didn't, instead idly inspecting the gold thread embroidering the sleeves and Chase's emblem stitched over the left side of his breast.

Clean, dry, and redressed, he didn't have any more reason to linger in the bath and so, as Mosi had instructed, he made his way over to the door at the far wall and went through.

Chase was waiting for him there, in a room that looked like it belonged to a sheik's courtesan, reclining casually on a plush couch.

"Hello again, Jack," he said. "Did you enjoy your bath?"

Jack was unduly distracted by the line of Chase's body and the inviting tilt of his smile. "Uh. Yeah, I did. I didn't keep you waiting, did I?"

Chase's smile broadened. "Not long." He stood, making his way back over to Jack's side. "I took the time to decide where to show you next, if you've no objection."

Already Jack was hyperaware of Chase again in no time at all, his proximity close enough to transmit body heat and the sound of his inhale impossibly loud just beside his ear.

"You're running the show," he conceded. "I'll go wherever you want to take me."

And wasn't that uncomfortably close to the truth? But all Chase said was, "Excellent," and brought him around a column to show him a truly intimidating spiral staircase.

Jack stared at it, neck craning nearly ninety degrees. "This isn't one of those hideously impractical sets of stairs that look really cool aesthetically but take so much time and effort to climb that you don't really care about what's at the top anymore, is it?"

"Not at all," Chase promised. "It should only take you an hour or so to climb these."

Jack's head whipped around to stare at Chase in disbelief and it wasn't until the man's façade broke with a bark of laughter that he relaxed.

"It would take you that long," Chase insisted, "were you not with me."

Jack caught on quick. "They're charmed, aren't they?"

"Naturally. You see them as far taller than they actually are, and if you tried to climb them on your own you would be trapped in a looped section for roughly an hour."

Jack whistled. "Impressively devious," he said. "Got any other traps like that around here?"

"Hundreds," Chase replied, a wicked glint in his eye, but he said no more than that, which Jack figured was fair enough.

They ascended the spiral together, Jack firmly at Chase's side, and they did reach the top in a startling short amount of time. Once again, Jack caught himself gaping at a huge and visually stunning room.

"You know," he said slowly, "I'm starting to think you might be overcompensating for how totally underwhelming that old 'house' of yours was."

Chase seemed unconcerned by the accusation. "Perhaps a little. Mostly, I just designed it to my personal tastes and spared no expense. I like to think that means that any discrepancies between the past and the present show just how much I've outgrown such things."

And how Chase had outgrown his past. A dead, dry, and brittle field of millet couldn't even begin to compare to the garden Jack was looking at now, a vast room of lush greens, white marble, and in between, splashes of every color imaginable. It was practically an insult to even call it just a garden when it looked more like a fabled Wonder of the World.

Jack decided not to comment on Chase's statement, knowing anything he had to say would fall short of the mark.

"So this is your garden, huh?" he said, glancing around at the foliage and flowers hanging from planters and sprouting up from soil beds on the floor. "I can't say I pegged you as the type."

"To enjoy gardening or to enjoy having a garden?"

Jack made a face at a bizarre mental image of Chase doing all of this himself. "Both, I guess."

"You aren't wrong." Chase led them forward onto an ornate path into the garden, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Jack when he met his eye. "I only oversaw its creation. I preferred not to dirty my hands when I didn't have to."

"Oh, god, I understand completely."

Chase glanced at him curiously, clearly sensing the story there. Still selectively editing himself for the sake of the future, though, Jack couldn't quite explain the circumstances.

He weighed his words for a second before adding, "Well, I guess I just have a hard time getting plants to cooperate with me." And to not usurp his evil plans and turn him into a cactus, but c'est la vie. There had been other greenery-related failures in his past. "Honestly, I probably shouldn't touch anything while we're here. It might die just to spite me."

Chase laughed at that. "Not too skilled with your hands, are you?"

"The opposite!" Jack exclaimed. "I'm amazing with my hands!"

That seemed to catch Chase's interest. "Oh?"

"Yes! My hands are great!" He scoffed. "Of course they are, I'm an artist. They're just not so great with things that…live. And require water and attention, I guess."

"Then what do you work with?"

Jack made a questioning noise.

"Your craft," Chase clarified. "You don't work with plants. What then? Paints and oils?"

"Metal," Jack answered automatically, before even noticing the strangeness of the question.

"Sculpture?"

"Uh. Sort of." Jack backtracked a little, amending, "I guess I was being kind of dramatic, though. I'm not really an artist, at least not like what you're thinking. I doubt anybody'd call what I do 'art' except me."

"It's technical," Chase said.

An easy question. "Yes." In multiple uses of the word.

"But does it require anything besides knowledge?"

Jack frowned, not following. "Well…yeah."

"Could you do what you do without your insight, your passion, your creativity?"

"Probably not," he admitted, internally adding, at least not if I want to stay about a billion steps ahead of what the other uninspired hacks are coming up with.

"Then you didn't misspeak at all," Chase concluded. "You're an artist."

Validating. Jack smiled and hoped he wasn't about to start blushing.

Chase glanced at him sidelong. "I don't suppose you could be more specific about your craft than that."

His tone said he was already resigned to getting a non-answer in return and Jack gave him an apologetic grimace. "There's still not really an analogue these days for what I do. The vocabulary doesn't exist yet." Not for describing an engineer/inventor/mechanic who was living off his parents' Old Money until he could properly add '/entrepreneur,' '/CEO,' and probably a bunch of other stuff to his title.

Chase nodded, having expected as much. "But it will," he said firmly. "And when it does, you will tell me about it."

"Uh…sure. Yeah." Jack was pretty sure Chase would take that back within two minutes of actually listening to him talk—most people did—but the interest was noted. Noted and flattering, and he had to hope that he was keeping his grin just the right side of way-too-ecstatic.

He cleared his throat and tried to say something reasonably intelligent. "So do you come here often?"

Oh my god.

Jack had never been so relieved that he was stuck in the past and shit like that could slide under the radar, because Chase took it in stride.

"Not particularly often, but on occasion," he said. "As you can imagine, it's well-suited to meditation, and in the daytime there are many ideal spots for basking."

"Basking?"

"A pastime enjoyed by most lizards, of which dragons are apparently no exception." Chase caught him by the shoulder again, getting his attention before pointing upwards at the ceiling.

It was probably just as impressive as the garden itself, a mosaic of glass and prisms in mesmerizing patterns that could let in the sun and the moon in equally fascinating ways.

"Not truly glass or anything as fragile as that, of course," Chase told him. "I could never allow such a tactical weak spot in my defenses, but it's spelled to let the light through."

"And you just…sunbathe in your garden paradise sometimes?"

"Yes. I'd suggest you try it sometime yourself," the man teased, "but I can't imagine it would go well."

Jack snorted, remembering legendary sunburns of days past. "No, probably not."

"It's just as well. Your skin looks far better in moonlight anyway."

That made Jack falter, wondering if he were hard of hearing after all, because Chase gave no indication that he even realized he'd said something like that, only gently squeezed his shoulder and released it.

But then he looked directly at him, with a stare that could only be described as penetrating and asked, "See anything you like?"

Jack gaped at him. There was no better, more dignified word for his reaction, but he hardly thought he could be blamed. "Uhhhhhh. What?"

He did not squeak that last part. He didn't.

Chase tilted his head. "The garden?" a gentle query, like he was concerned for Jack. "You can appreciate the flowers without being able to grow them yourself. Surely there's something here that catches your eye?"

…..oh. Oh.

Can I really keep calling myself a genius at this rate? For fuck's sake. Of course that was what Chase meant!

Now to pretend he'd known that all along.

"Yeah," he said hurriedly, "yeah, definitely, I mean it's all very…" He made a vague gesture around them. "There's a lot of options, I was just…considering."

It was weak as far as covers went, but Chase nodded, waiting patiently for his composure and his answer.

(Was that a smirk? Was he still reading too much into things?)

Jack's eyes lighted on a nearby bush of flowers and he reached out to it, grasping a stem without breaking it. "These are nice," he declared with probably far more conviction than the question required.

"Indeed they are," Chase agreed, coming around to Jack's other side to view it more closely. Jack breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Though I wouldn't have pegged you as the type to like purple."

"I don't dislike it," Jack hedged. He really wasn't that big a fan of purple, especially pastel shades like the bloom between his fingers, but luckily he hadn't picked a totally unredeemable plant. "I think I like the petals. They're thin and straight and…I don't know, it looks…neat. Symmetrical."

"So it does," and as usual, though he'd had trouble putting his thoughts into words, Chase saw right to the heart of what he'd been trying to say. "The precision and delicacy of nature is fascinating. I'm quite partial to these for the same reason."

Jack followed Chase's hand, seeing it reach upward to a planter on top of a decorative column. Several long stems hung over the side, each adorned with tiny bell-shaped blossoms. The dark green tip of Chase's finger contrasted starkly with the curling white petal it lightly tapped.

"Lovely, aren't they?"

The upside down flowers reminded Jack of something a fairy princess in a storybook might wear as a skirt. Or maybe something Kimiko had worn once, it was hard to differentiate. Still, they were tiny and well-formed and very pretty, so Jack agreed.

"They're also extremely poisonous, if you can believe that as well."

…of course they were.

"I put considerable effort into cultivating these," Chase told him seriously. "They wouldn't cooperate at first, but I think my efforts were worth it. I have no doubt they'll serve me well in years to come, and they make a wonderful addition here besides."

Jack shrugged. "Sometimes you've gotta put the work in to get the reward."

Chase looked at him again, shrewdly. "I couldn't agree more, Jack," he said at length.

That…sounded distinctly like he was missing something. He hesitated, on the verge of asking, and then thought better of it.

Deflect, deflect, deflect.

"So are, uh…these ones your favorites, then?" he asked.

"Favorites? No," Chase decided slowly, "though I do favor them. I prefer something a bit more robust."

"Oh. You mean like, those carnations?" The bush of them was the one with the largest blooms in here, or at least the largest Jack could see from this section of the garden—and almost definitely one of the only ones he could actually put a name to.

Granny was particularly fond of carnations, always having a vase of them out in the dining room when Jack went to visit her. Purple ones, usually, because she said those were for capriciousness and Jack had never quite been able to wrap his head around that; all the significance and meanings that flowers were supposed to have.

Flowers were just flowers, right?

Chase looked over at the bush in question, noting the ruffles of both light and dark red. "Ah, the dianthus? I do like those quite a bit, as well. They're a memento of sorts, actually."

"Really? What of?"

"I found those," Chase gestured, "in Greece several centuries ago. Mere days after you left."

Jack blinked. That was worthy of a memento?

Chase continued. "I wondered if you'd like them as much as I do. Do you?"

What to say to that? "Yeah, they're nice."

"But not my favorites, ultimately. I keep those at the center. Come," he invited, "I'll show you."

This time, Chase didn't wait for him and instead of walking at his side, Jack ended up trailing behind him as they traveled deeper into the garden.

Chase's pace was brisk, not exactly inviting further conversation so Jack let his eyes wander instead, admiring the leaves and petals of all colors.

Except…the more Jack looked, the less that seemed to be true.

The dragonlord had not been negligent in his collection, every shade in the spectrum present somewhere in the garden with not a color left out. In the distance, around the edges of the large room, Jack could still see vibrant yellows, cool blues, royal purples, and soft pinks scattered amidst the greens.

But not here. Not from the marble paths winding through the garden. From here, only a few select colors were visible, narrowing down the diversity considerably. The further they went, the closer to the apparent heart of the garden, the more apparent the color pattern became.

Orange. Red. White.

Jack looked at Chase, but the man had his eyes forward and seemed not to notice his gaze. He also didn't look back when Jack chased a crazy, suspicious whim and reached out to brush against a thatch of daisies they passed.

It wasn't crazy. The petals blended precisely with the color of his fingers.

Jack's silence went from casual to tense as he made the obvious connections, flirting with the implications thereof.

Flirting. Poor choice of words.

Because this was becoming something a little beyond what could be passed off as teasing. A stray comment here and there was one thing, but something like this…it bordered on a gesture, and a grand one at that.

And that was if conscious thought had been put into the decision. There was also the chance that it hadn't been planned, that Chase had designed the garden and just felt that Jack's colors belonged in his inner sanctum.

Objectively, it was a much worse scenario because it made it a grand emotional gesture, which…

Jack swallowed around excess saliva, hope and anxiety warring in his gut.

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. And even though it felt like it was getting slimmer every minute, there was still the possibility that he was blowing things out of proportion and to even mention it in that case would be a hideously embarrassing faux pas that he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to come back from.

(Assuming your feelings really were stupid and hopeless was bad enough, he didn't want to hear it, not from this Chase, the one who liked him and called him friend.)

And yet, Jack found his mouth opening anyway. "Chase—"

He was saved from whatever stupid thing he'd been about to say as the man in question stopped and angled to face him again. "This is the center of the garden," he said. "It's where I meditate, when the mood to do so in this particular room strikes."

The center was a modest ring free of greenery, only the marble floor and a small rock formation fountain that cascaded over itself with a nearly inaudible sound. Jack could picture Chase meditating above it clearly, and the pleasant fantasy was a brief but welcome relief to thinking in nervous circles.

But then there were the flowers that surrounded the fountain.

Jack watched, feeling frozen in place as Chase knelt beside them and announced, "These are my favorites."

It was like a lily, almost. The petals were broader and there were more of them, but they had the same shape and curled outwards like they'd just burst open. It was almost the same shade of white, too; would be, if not for the splash of scarlet dead center and along the edge of each and every petal, as though someone had carefully colored them in by hand.

"I'm not sure what these are," Chase said and Jack's eyes shot back to him immediately, watching with a strange feeling as his gloved hands reached out to cup the nearest blossom in what looked like tenderness. "I obtained their bulbs through a long string of parties, so I don't even know where they came from. But I do know that they're the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

Chase got to his feet, seeming to consider something. "Well," he corrected, "one of, anyway."

Jack felt the blood rushing to his cheeks, catching that implication loud and clear and turned away, taking an instinctive half-step backward.

It was an incredible series of coincidences which combined to result in what happened next.

Jack was more than a little mentally off-balance, so he didn't think to look where he was putting his foot. The foot in question was missing the high traction he was used to, wearing a sandal instead of a heavy duty boot. He certainly wasn't expecting to step into a puddle of water, not as far from the gentle water fountain as he was.

Luckily for him was the fourth coincidence: that Chase had already taken a step in his direction.

No sooner had he slipped and fallen backwards, a strangled yelp not quite making it out of his throat, Chase was right there with him in a flash. Jack would later be hard-pressed to say whether or not he'd actually teleported, but it was an understandable lapse of observation because Chase was close.

Keeping him up by a single arm around his waist, the other hand tightly grasping his, Chase leaned over him haloed by prismatically filtered moonlight.

With wide eyes Jack met Chase's, his gaze so suddenly smoldering that he could almost feel rational thought pouring out of his brain, too dazed by the heat and solidity of the body he could feel through the thin silk he was wearing to even attempt to hold onto it. He just let Chase hold him up, thinking back to the first time they'd met.

Chase had caught him then, too, but this was different. This was intimate.

It was like this, with their faces scant inches apart and eyes locked that Chase spoke, voice pitched so low and soft that it was practically a murmur.

"You should be careful…"

The full-body shiver was only to be expected, but it gave Jack the momentum he needed to break eye-contact. He realized he was clinging to Chase's armored shoulder and hurriedly let go, coughing and clearing his throat as he tried to straighten up.

Chase refused to let him do this alone and Jack tried and failed to ignore his hands as they settled him firmly upright and the way Chase's thumb dragged lingeringly against his palm.

If he had been starting to blush before, his cheeks were on fire now, and his heart beat a vicious staccato in his chest. He had no doubt Chase's hearing could catch it easily and not five minutes ago, he'd have been concerned about that, making a fool out of himself in front of a politely disinterested Chase, but Jack was sure that wasn't the case. Not anymore.

Because that had been on purpose.

Chase did plenty of stuff to him on accident, by sheer virtue of existence. Jack was used to it by now and though he consistently bemoaned it as unfair, he'd come to expect it—quickened pulses and sweaty palms and tied tongues whenever Chase just happened to be exceptionally beautiful or charming that day.

What had just happened was no accident, couldn't have been no matter how many ways Jack ran it in his head. It was straight out of a harlequin romance, too much and too obvious to be anything but deliberate and it gave Jack the answer to at least one of his questions.

Chase hadn't moved on. He was interested.

If only that didn't raise more questions, but it did because Jack had no idea what Chase was interested in besides the obvious.

From the…times before, attraction was a given, Jack had known about it and it had been fine because…because they'd agreed. Not verbally or anything, but that had been the point, they weren't going to talk about it, whatever the hell it was, and everything would be fine.

Except now, this, and Chase wasn't talking about it, per se, but he was doing things, coming on strong and being romantic of all the fucking things, and Jack's brain was approximately no help, uselessly shrieking 'TIMELINE, TIMELINE, TIMELINE' at him on repeat.

Jack didn't think he'd ever been so tempted to potentially destroy the world before.

"Are you alright, Jack?" Chase asked, curiously like he had no idea what he'd just done and what a crock of shit that was. He knew. "You seem quiet."

Jack breathed through his nose. "Fine," he said after a moment, shaking his head. "I'm fine, I just." God, what to say? How to start this conversation? "I'm…"

"Hungry?"

Jack looked up to find Chase grinning at him again, encouragingly.

"That is your usual complaint, isn't it?"

It was an easy way out. It probably played right into Chase's plan, whatever it was, and it was totally cowardly besides.

Knowing as much didn't stop Jack from taking it.

Jack huffed what he hoped sounded like a laugh. "I am, actually. Hungry. Don't supposed you planned a dinner break for the grand tour?"

"Planned? No," and Jack was pretty sure that was a lie, "but I've fed you on less notice with fewer resources, haven't I? I'm sure I can come up with something."

Jack smiled, weakly probably, but grateful and made the appropriate noises to that effect.

If nothing else, dinner would give him time to think through his words if Chase really was bringing this up again.

As long as Chase didn't take him to some kind of patio under the stars to share a single plate of spaghetti, Jack figured he could manage that much without freaking out.

Chase didn't, in fact, try to pull a Disney-style seduction and Jack tried not to laugh hysterically upon realizing how little he'd ever expected to have to be grateful for that.

The dining room was as it had ever been in Jack's experience, perhaps a little more brightly lit than normal but still only a long table laden with food that smelled delicious. The only real difference was how close to the head of the table Chase gestured him to sit.

Not unusual, he thought, obligingly taking his seat. If you're having dinner with somebody, you'd want them close enough to talk to.

A perfectly legitimate reason. But not the only one, Jack couldn't believe that anymore.

Still, he didn't (couldn't, you selfish idiot) protest and sat anyway, busying himself with the food and thoughts of how to handle the latest fallout of Guan's bullshit spell.

Naturally, it took Chase no time at all to draw him out of his thoughts and into conversation. An embarrassingly short while later, he found himself chatting easily about current events, almost as if he'd never been worried about anything at all.

"It seems as if the entire world has devolved into a cesspool," Chase was scoffing with disdain. "I confess I haven't been out in it much lately, but I can hardly be blamed for that. The stench is the same wherever you go—rot and disease and human waste. It's nauseating."

"Yeah, for someone with average senses. I bet it's a hundred times worse for you."

"At least," Chase agreed ruefully. Glancing at Jack sidelong, he added, "I don't suppose you can tell me if I'll ever be able to leave my home again or if I'm forever destined to be a shut-in."

Jack considered it over a light sip of wine and didn't see any harm. "No, this is pretty much the worst it gets, I think. There's a plague going around and a major religion's telling people that bathing is sinful, it's pretty much a perfect storm of disgusting that doesn't happen on nearly the same scale ever again."

Chase snorted. "I admit I was surprised at first to see how widely the contagion was spreading but when basic hygiene is scolded as witchcraft and debauchery, it's really not much of a surprise at all. You're aware that in the west, people are carelessly dumping chamberpots in the streets?"

"And dumping diseased corpses in open mass graves," Jack nodded. "Nothing about what's happening could really be considered smart."

"Not much to be done for those who won't entertain cleanliness as a solution," Chase supposed with an idle wave of his cup. "I can't help but notice, however, that this so called 'Black Death' never had a showing of this size in China."

"That's not a nationalist bias I hear coming through, is it?" Jack teased lightly, only to pause half a moment later. "You've seen it before?"

"Of course," the warlord answered easily. "It was common in my day, though the outbreaks were never so widespread until recently."

"Huh. I didn't know that."

"Didn't you?" Chase sounded mildly surprised. "Being from the future, I half-expect you to know everything."

Jack laughed. "No, not everything. A lot, sure," he conceded, "but not everything. I didn't know the plague started in China."

"It did. Actually, it was what killed my wife those many years ago."

And just like that, Jack's mood soured.

With all that had happened in between, and with Chase finally who he was supposed to be now, he had completely forgotten about that brief period when he wasn't; when he had just picked a convenient woman and settled down and married her.

It was dumb. It was beyond dumb and Jack knew that, but he was suddenly very aware of the possessive Chase had just used—'my wife'—and he couldn't get past it.

Did Chase still think of her as his? Did she still mean something to him, even after Jack had pointed out that their whole marriage was a stupid, pointless fraud?

And more importantly, why did he care if she did? Was Jack actually that petty to still be jealous of a centuries-dead woman just because she'd had Chase, a man Jack had been wondering how to turn down easy not an hour before this?

Well that one, I know the answer to: of course I'm that petty.

It might be different if he actually wanted to turn Chase down, if it were anything but circumstantial obligation forcing his hand again, but as it was…

The very thought of Chase having such a long-lasting emotional connection to her alongside what could be nothing more than an unusually persistent sexual attraction to him was enough to make Jack see green.

"Jack?"

He jolted back to awareness to find Chase looking at him, with both question and vague concern in his eyes, and he realized he'd been quiet just a tad too long.

A lapse in judgment to be sure, but an easy cover. All he had to do was wave it off as nothing, lost in thought, spacing out, no problem, what were we talking about again?

He opened his mouth and asked, "Do you miss her?"

…Fuck.

A disturbing amount of understanding dawned on Chase's face, his features softening into a smile. "No. Not at all."

"You sure about that?" and that was leagues too bitter from somebody who was supposed to be uninterested. Jack fervently willed himself to retroactively shut the hell up, but as usual spontaneous time travel refused to work in his favor.

"Completely," said Chase, and his smile had taken on a note of amusement. "You know better than anyone what a…unique period in my life that was." He waited for Jack's nod of acknowledgment before continuing. "I imagine I'll always remember her because of that; how strange it was for me in retrospect, but I feel no attachment to her. Certainly no more than I feel for anyone else I've had a passing dalliance with."

It sounded a lot like reassurance. Distantly, Jack knew that if Chase had seen enough to know he wanted to be reassured, he was in trouble but the words were soothing that mean and nasty part of him that kept talking out of turn.

It might be a necessary evil.

"Shun-Heng was soft-spoken and pretty. Traits many look for in a woman, I suppose, and I liked her well enough to live with her." The jealousy started creeping back in, only halted when Chase said, "But…she never understood me. Not even after a lifetime. Because of that, I can only hold her fondly in my thoughts to a point."

Well. That was…something, at least. Good to know.

A large hand closed around his forearm, firmly enough that his instinctive startle didn't dislodge it. Jack looked up and was just as steadily caught in Chase's gaze—intent and poignant.

"Shun-Heng," he said, deliberate and sure, "was never what I really wanted."

Jack could've choked on his own heartbeat.

That was more than 'something.' A lot more than 'something' and Jack didn't think the fluttering feeling Chase gave him had ever been stronger.

It was also a 'more than something' that was going to take genius and a serious risk to finesse himself out of.

"What do you want?" Jack asked with all the naïveté he could muster, reluctantly tugging his arm back. "You mentioned dalliances. What kind of things do you usually look for?"

It was a dangerous move, specifically asking about something so personal. It ran the risk of making him seem too eager and too interested.

(Which he absolutely was, but since it was a Thing That Must Not Happen, the goal was to avoid that.)

Unfortunately, it also happened to be the only viable way through this. It was impossible to pretend he didn't care about Chase's sex life at all, Jack knew that ship had sailed and he had to cut his losses on that one.

It was still possible to pretend he only cared about Chase's sex life as a friend, though. If he could be careful enough from here on out, asking casually and feigning obliviousness, there was a slim chance he could sell the lie that his interest was purely platonic and not at all personal.

And if he did that right, it might cut off any more of Chase's advances at the pass, too.

Still, I never thought I'd see the day when the 'no homo, bro' approach was my best option.

Chase, for his part seemed to give the matter consideration, and the lack of a quick response in the form of bold declarations or witty flirtations heartened Jack.

"Honestly, I hadn't given the matter much thought," Chase admitted. "Intelligence is a must, of course. I never could abide stupidity."

"Of course," Jack agreed. He moderated his expression into an approximation of interest, polite and not too much.

"Looking back, though, it's often been a sense of humor that truly gets my attention," the other man mused. "It combines very well with intelligence. I think my favorite partners have been the ones who could match my wit, or even beat me to a punch line on occasion."

"Sure," Jack nodded, "you want someone on your level." Hearing about 'favorite partners' was bringing the jealousy back again, but Chase wasn't looking at him with such burning intensity anymore and that was the more important goal.

His gamble in selecting this topic could pay off, after all.

"On my level," Chase echoed. "Well-phrased. I do want that. I have power and wealth. I deserve respect, but I hardly want someone who's too simpering or afraid to be candid with me."

"You have servants for the unquestioning obedience."

"Exactly. If I'm to take a lover, I would choose someone with a backbone. Someone bold enough to question me when I need it. When I'm doing something foolish like, say…subsistence farming for a living when I ought to be commanding minions from the luxury of a palace."

"…uh. Yeah, I…guess."

"I've had some of that with others," Chase said airily, "but to me, it always felt as if it lacked substance. There was no history there. Without that, anyone I spent time on was little more than a fleeting diversion to me."

Jack looked at Chase in suddenly wary silence, feeling caught and singled out.

Chase wasn't looking back at him though, only taking a deep, unconcerned pull from his glass of wine.

It was…slightly possible that Jack was being paranoid again and his ploy was working just as well as it had seemed to be a minute ago.

Then, "I'd ask about your preferences, but I think I already know what they are," Chase declared, snaring Jack in a sly glance, "or else you wouldn't be trying so hard to throw me off the scent."

Oh. Or, his ploy had never worked at all because Chase had known what he was trying to do from the start.

Damn.

Jack couldn't help but admire Chase's clever tactician's brain, even when it was being pit against him.

He took a deep breath through his nose, staring down at the table. "Chase… Look, I—"

Once again, Jack was almost grateful to have been interrupted when Chase said, "Jack. Before you say anything, I would like to finish your tour."

Jack made a face. "Wh… I…really? Now?"

"Yes. Dinner is over and there is one more place I'd like you to see."

Understandably confused, Jack shook his head, trying to commit himself to biting the bullet. "I don't… Chase, I think we really need to talk."

"We do," Chase agreed coolly, easily, "and we will. But not here."

There were times when Jack thought himself the most adept Chase Young translator on the planet. And then there were times like this; looking at the expression on the other man's face and seeing nothing but an indecipherable dragonlord staring back at him.

He couldn't even begin to guess at Chase's state of mind just now, much less his intentions with this latest curveball.

Before he could come up with a decent response, Chase stood from his place at the table and Jack found himself looking at an outstretched palm. "Will you come?"

Jack hesitated. Come where? To an impossible seduction or an innocent, or at least straightforward conversation?

If Chase was offended by his pause, he didn't show it. His expression and his hand didn't move at all. He only asked, "Do you trust me?"

The question was different, but Jack knew the meaning was the same and the rephrasing all but settled his decision.

Because god help him, but he did.

He took his hand and let Chase pull him from the table. "Okay," he said. "Let's go."

A satisfied look was Chase's only response before he turned away and walked out of the dining room, obviously expecting Jack to follow.

Which he did.

Jack wasn't sure where to direct his thoughts just yet, whether it would be better to go into this with clear and prepared talking points or go off the cuff and improvise. Knowing exactly what to say and how to say it could make him seem disingenuous and Chase would surely seize on that right away and turn it against him.

But on the other hand, his improvisational skills hadn't exactly been doing him much good, lately.

His brain seemed to make the decision for him, giving the impending Conversation a wide berth and turning instead to the hallways Chase was leading him through. If he couldn't figure out what to say, maybe he could at least try to figure out where the warlord was taking him?

Except no, that was a futile effort too.

It felt like they hadn't been walking long at all but the twists and turns Jack was suddenly remembering made it seem much more complicated in retrospect. No more than three directions at a time remained clear in his memory before slipping away like sand through a fissure and Jack was abruptly sure that it was the work of another of Chase's trap charms.

Wherever they were going, it was well-protected—Chase didn't want it found easily, or even remembered easily by someone who'd been there.

War room, maybe? An inner-sanctum? That would make sense.

And it was certainly an inner-sanctum, of sorts. Chase ushered him inside a room seemingly at random and shut the door and Jack froze at the sight of it.

It was, without a doubt, a bedroom.

Chase's bedroom.

Really starting to doubt the odds of that straightforward conversation, about now.

The thought galvanized Jack's tongue back to functionality, barely. "Uh. Chase?"

Chase's first reply was nonverbal, fingers trailing over his shoulders and down his arm as the man walked around Jack and further into the room. Then in a tone that could only be described as sultry, "Relax, Jack. You're far too tense."

Jack's good intentions were fading fast. All he seemed to be able to process was the fact that a beautiful man had brought him to his bedroom and was definitely trying to seduce him.

He felt his face heat and desperately tried to backpedal towards rational thought. "I…don't. Shouldn't. You. Um…"

Startling him, Chase laughed, glancing at him over his shoulder. "You really don't know what to do with this at all, do you?"

Jack flushed darker and frowned. "That. Well, I guess that kinda depends on what this is, doesn't it," he said, vaguely indignant.

Chase turned forward again but not before Jack saw the amused grin on his face. "Yes, of course, you wanted to talk first. That's fine, the seduction will keep."

Jack seized onto the first piece of solid footing he could find. "So you are trying to seduce me!"

"Jack, have you realized I don't need you here?"

And it was gone again. Jack flinched back ever so slightly, confused and more hurt than he'd like to admit at the curt declaration. "What? What are you talking about?"

For a split second just before Chase turned to face him again, Jack was worried he was about to see the cold and scornful dragonlord of his present.

It was a relief when in spite of the harsh words, the Chase that looked at him was still the one he'd miraculously befriended; still his Chase.

It was enough of a relief, in fact, that he didn't even remember to chastise himself for thinking of Chase as his.

"I've alluded to it quite a bit but I think you've seen enough to know for yourself: I'm doing well for myself," Chase said calmly. "I'm satisfied with my life as it is."

Jack completely blamed the evening's emotional rollercoaster for the fact that he was not following at all. "Yeah. So?"

"So why are you here?"

The question stopped Jack cold and he realized, quite abruptly, what Chase was getting at.

He'd been here, in this time, for hours and hadn't seen a single sign of something wrong.

"There's nothing for me to fix," he concluded slowly. He hesitated and glanced up at Chase. "Is there?"

But Chase shook his head. "There's nothing," he promised. "Yet, you're here. Don't you wonder why that is?"

Yes. Yes, Jack was wondering that now, and it was more than a little troubling because so far putting out fires had been his way of navigating his temporal predicament. Pop into a problem, fix the thing, move onto the next one: not always easy, but Jack at least knew what to do.

Why was he even here if there wasn't a problem? And how was he supposed to keep moving if there was nothing for him to fix?

"I…"

Before Jack could get himself too worked up over it, Chase spoke again. "I can tell you exactly why."

"Why then?"

"Because I needed you."

Jack frowned, but Chase wasn't finished.

"Not to solve something or to do damage control. Just you."

Jack watched as Chase briefly turned away again, casually undoing his vambraces.

"You see," he said as he did so, "I've spent the last four hundred or so years preparing to test a theory. I knew it would require a lot of effort on my part. Certain milestone achievements, personal growth…and much as it galls me to admit it, desperation—the kind that can only be born from centuries of waiting."

The vambraces dropped to the floor one after the other, though they never made contact. They disappeared halfway down in a crackle of Heylin magic instead, an easy, thoughtless gesture of power.

"But I was very sure of myself. I knew my patience would get me exactly what I wanted in the end. So, I started planning something very important to me."

Chase began to peel off his gloves and Jack stood stupidly transfixed.

"I went about my life. I achieved my full potential. I built myself an empire. And all the while I was waiting until the conditions would finally be right."

The gloves vanished, possibly to the same place Jack's voice had gone because he didn't think he could interrupt Chase now even if he wanted to.

"Tonight," Chase said, voice low, "they were. I knew it. I put everything I had planned into place and it was all flawless. There was only one thing I needed to make sure tonight happened exactly as I wanted it to."

Chase sat on the edge of his extravagant pillowy bed, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. "You, Jack. I needed you, and here you are."

The implications were staggering. Chase was saying he had manipulated the spell, or at least figured out how to predict when Jack would show up and Jack would definitely try to process all of that later when Chase wasn't looking at him like…

Well, like he really did need him.

"That's crazy," Jack blurted, wincing when Chase raised an eyebrow at him. "No, I…I mean, it's… You're saying you needed me to be here so you could, what? Seduce me?"

Chase's answering smile was fond, if just a little patronizing for the frazzled genius's liking. "Not only that," he assured. "You wanted to talk; I want that, too. It's long overdue, I'd say."

He was…probably right about that. "Yeah," Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We're doing this, then?"

In lieu of a direct answer, Chase angled his head to the spot beside him. "Sit."

As always, Jack couldn't help but do exactly what Chase told him to do, inhaling and exhaling deeply before sagging onto the mattress next to him—with a completely respectable space between them.

"So," he said wearily, "did you want to start or should I?"

"I'm sure I can guess what you have to say."

Jack's head whipped up and over to glare at Chase, expecting condescension, but the glower faded in confusion when he realized the words seemed completely genuine. "What do I have to say then?"

"That you're flattered by my interest, truly, but nothing can happen between us and you're very sorry. Oh," Chase added almost as an afterthought, "and if I'd like someone to blame for it, I might go take it out on Guan since it is, or will be his fault."

Jack stared at him. "…good guess."

"But you see, it wasn't. A guess," Chase clarified. "I know you, Jack. And I'm sure by this point you must think me a selfish, sex-driven brute to keep tempting you like this," Jack blushed, "but I am listening. I heard you the first time."

Jack huffed out a breath, staring at the floor. "Then why…?" He wasn't sure how to finish the question, but he supposed it didn't really matter. Chase would answer it.

"Because your guidelines were specific, Jack," he said. "And the wait is over."

"Guidelines?" Jack wrinkled his nose. "What guidelines?"

When Jack looked, Chase was rolling his eyes. "It's only been days for you, Jack, you can't have forgotten."

"I, well," Jack sputtered. "Just because I probably remember what I said doesn't mean I have any clue which specific thing you're talking about!"

And then Chase's hand settled on his knee and Jack almost gave himself whiplash with how quickly that one point of contact rendered him still and silent.

Patiently, Chase met his gaze and reminded him. "You said, some time ago, that when the danger had passed, I could ask you a certain question again."

With that prompting, Jack's own words popped into his head clear as a bell.

"After all this. When the…consequences and the danger of messing time up are all over. Then you can ask me that again."

Jack was stunned, not least of all because he remembered when he'd said it, too.

"That was… Chase, that had to be like, eight-hundred years ago. You…you were Xiaolin when I said that to you!"

In counterpoint, Chase was completely calm. "Did you think I had forgotten?"

"Yes!" Jack admitted. "Why would you remember that? After all this time…"

"I remembered it because of the question I asked you," Chase told him. "I'm considerably invested in hearing the answer and I remember everything I deem that important."

Jack had no answer for that.

Chase looked at whatever it was Jack's face was doing. "Are you really so surprised that I think you important?"

"Yes."

"You shouldn't be," Chase said coolly, bluntly. "After you've been a constant companion to me my entire life? My only constant since I became Heylin? Of course you're important."

Jack's breath caught, just a little, at the sheer ease of the declaration. Wide-eyed, he attempted to protest through the bubbly feeling in his chest. "I—"

Of course, Chase read his intent perfectly and cut him off. "Don't even try to argue it, Jack. It's true. From the moment I drank the Lao Máng Lóng, I chose a life of uncertainty— nothing's permanent, no one stays. No one can because I am constant and mortals…aren't."

There was no regret in the statement, just cold fact.

"The people in my life that don't eventually grow old and die around me are subjugated to my will and cursed to an inhuman form unless I choose to allow them otherwise," Chase continued, "hardly a basis for anything substantial."

Jack inhaled sharply when the hand on his knee squeezed gently.

"You're different," Chase told him, something earnest in his tone. "You've come in and out of my life since I was a boy. Sometimes years, decades, or even centuries apart, but you've been there. Always unchanged, whenever I see you. You don't age like everyone else does."

That threw Jack. "But…I do," he argued. "I definitely do age. I'm just living on an accelerated timeline of your life, I'm as mortal as anybody else."

"I realize that," Chase said, unconcerned. "But in effect, you are still like me. You're constant, when everything else in my life is transitory." He reached over, grasping Jack's hand in his own and the skin on skin was unexpected enough that Jack didn't even think to pretend to want to pull away from it. "Do you really think I wouldn't value you? Wouldn't want you?"

And there it was, finally, the truth that Jack had hoped for and dreaded and tried to avoid acknowledging in equal, desperate measure.

"You want me." And then, because it sounded just as crazy out loud as it did in his head, "You want me."

Chase, to Jack's embarrassment, made a show of looking at the room they were in and at his own hands, one gripping Jack's knee and the other clasped around his fingers in a gesture that was unquestionably intimate.

"I would think," he said dryly, "that would be obvious by now."

Jack tried to ignore his very hot face and the skittery, nervy sensation in his gut and muttered, "Yeah, I still don't get that. Why me?"

"Did I not just explain?" Chase wondered incredulously.

"No, I… You did, I guess, I just…" He was painfully aware that he was making very little sense and it only made him flounder harder for words he didn't have. He pulled his hand out of Chase's to ruffle his hair, completely frustrated with his uncooperative tongue.

But somehow, again, Chase seemed to miraculously understand.

"Ah," he said, leaning back from Jack slightly. "That's right, I remember now. You think yourself 'freakish.'"

Jack flinched.

"You think that you're so strange that to be called beautiful is only ever a joke; that someone as weak and defective as you isn't good enough for someone like me."

Every word wound Jack's shoulders up tighter, the effect of hearing his innermost fears announced with dispassion like exposing him was something Chase could just do whenever he wanted, easily and thoughtlessly.

Except then, instead of driving a knife into that vulnerable spot, Chase did something else.

"I don't agree," he said.

"…You don't?"

"No. Of course I don't. I think that when it comes to matters like this, you've been told too many times, in so many ways that you're not worthy, and that you've even started to believe it—"

Ouch. Accurate.

"—but it isn't true. If there was really nothing about you worthy of attention, I would never have been attracted to you in the first place."

Jack huffed, angling his face away. "How can you know that?" he snapped. God knows he'd had his fair share of regrettable passions that, with a little time and distance, were completely unredeemable. How could Chase be so sure?

"Because that's who I am," Chase insisted. "I don't have my head turned by pretty faces," and his hand left Jack's knee to light on his chin, punctuating his words by bringing him back around. "I never have. It takes a person to do that, an exceptional one. Like you."

Suddenly, Jack's eyes were stinging in a way that felt appallingly like tears and he blinked rapidly for a few seconds trying to head them off.

He felt a little pathetic for…reacting…so strongly, but it was hardly his fault that nobody had ever said something so nice to him, or that it was coming from somebody whose opinion he valued so highly.

Exceptional. That was…

Wow…

Through a tight throat, Jack choked out a weak, "So you don't think I have a pretty face then?"

A short chuckle, low and warm, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Oh, Jack," Chase said softly, "you have many pretty things. The point is that I'd like to explore all of them."

Chase wasn't touching him anymore, not physically, but somehow when Jack hadn't been paying attention the distance between them had closed and could hardly be called respectable anymore.

And with Chase looking at him like that, saying those things, Jack was starting to forget why he was supposed to care about 'respectable.'

"I… That's…" He shook his head, valiantly struggling for focus. "No. No, there's still—"

"The future?" Chase finished for him. "Yes, I know."

"Then you know why it doesn't matter what I—what you want to do," Jack exclaimed. "It could screw up the future! Yours and mine! It's a pretty good future, I don't… I thought you wanted it too, and that's why we weren't talking about this."

"I do want it. That's why I've held my tongue as long as I have. But we don't have to wait any longer; you agreed."

"And when did I do that, exactly?"

"When you arrived."

Jack scrolled backwards in his head, trying to remember what he'd said to Chase that could have translated to 'Screw the future, anyway, how bad could it be?' but Chase filled in the missing piece for him.

"You agreed with me that the timeline has stabilized," he said. "Everything in the here and now matches with your recall of your future. Your words: everything's perfect." And then he smirked, teasing, "I'm perfect, you almost said."

Jack grimaced and stared at his feet. So he did catch that.

"That's a good thing, Jack," the other man said with a conviction Jack envied and tried to find in himself. "I am as I'm meant to be in the future you know and nothing can change that."

True. True, true, true, Jack had agreed with that earlier and it seemed just as unimpeachably logical now as then.

And now that the seed had been planted, he was thinking.

How bad could it be?

A dangerous line of thinking to be sure, but…maybe not as much anymore?

Future Chase and Current Chase were identical. They looked the same, spoke the same, acted the same… And of course they lived in the same place with the same minions, and wealth, and power.

The only difference between Future Chase and Current Chase that Jack could see was that one of them actually liked him back, and if Jack's experience had taught him anything, that was a totally temporary state.

Why shouldn't he take advantage of that while he could? Was there even a reason?

The attention Chase was giving him certainly wasn't swaying him otherwise, a powerful arm wrapping around Jack's shoulders and nudging him towards the heat of the dragonlord's body.

"There is nothing of your future that this," a slow stroke along his forearm, "can jeopardize. Unless," Chase added lightly, "you think you might somehow get me pregnant."

The joke startled a short laugh out of Jack and he found himself leaning ever so slightly into Chase. "Hah. No, obviously that's…no."

"So then, what's the harm?"

In sex? In gay, perfectly non-reproductive sex that would probably just be a one-off anyway?

What a great question. I'm not seeing any, and what a thrill that was to realize.

Jack's heart started beating faster and not only from Chase's proximity, for once.

Still, out loud, he hesitated. "I don't…"

"I would have you, Jack," Chase said, bold and plain. "And I know you would have me, too."

With mild chagrin and no further pretense of denial, Jack said, "Pretty sure of that, are you?"

Chase seemed amused and brought him in just a little bit closer. "Yes. You're not as subtle as you think you are; your body, even less."

Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. "My—?"

"I didn't realize it until Thessaly, if you can believe that. Before then, I suppose I simply hadn't had the experience to know what it was, and why would I? I was human and a monk, and then I wasn't either but I still had no context for that scent."

Jack startled, just a bit, when Chase reached over to him again and curled his long fingers around his jaw. The touch of them was feather-light and the heat of his broad palm under Jack's chin was incredibly distracting in the best and worst of ways.

"But then I went out and learned. And when I touched you," Chase's thumb dragged across Jack's lower lip, and his breathing quickened, "just like this…you were aroused."

For a long, lagging moment, the words just plodded through Jack's skull without comprehension.

And then it clicked.

Scent. Arousal. Chase had animal senses, he was talking about pheromones.

Chase had known every single time Jack had been attracted to him.

"Oh god," he muttered, feeling faintly horrified as the blood drained from his face. "I… I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Chase said. His hand lingered at Jack's face before pulling back, as if to prove the point. "I couldn't read you for a long time. You would respond to me, but then in the very next moment, you'd go cold. I knew the obvious answer," the timeline, of course, "but I couldn't be sure. And I couldn't risk anything until I was sure."

Jack remembered vividly the time in the forest, the war of alarm and disgust in Chase's expression when he'd thought he'd touched Jack without his full consent.

"Right. Yeah."

"It was very welcome information to find you are attracted to me. And very flattering to know, in retrospect, how often you're attracted to me," Chase added cheekily. "You're aroused right now."

Incredible how quickly that blood was coming back. Jack tried looking down to hide his increasing embarrassment, but Chase must've seen anyway. The arm around him squeezed in a sort of half-hug and a kiss landed on his temple.

At the very least, it made being red as a tomato drop down a few notches on his list of problems, now well beneath the fact that his insides had somehow melted into goo.

"I promise you it's mutual," Chase told him warmly. "I'm very fond of you, as well."

Jack managed a smile. "Yeah?"

"Yes. I've been seducing you all evening. I've been planning this since I last saw you over four-hundred years ago. Do you think I've done any of this lightly?"

Jack saw the look on Chase's face. "No. No, I guess you wouldn't."

Taking a moment to just breathe, Jack met Chase's eyes, trying to think except it was so hard to stay on target with impulsive thoughts poking in unasked.

Kiss him, was the hardest to ignore because it felt like the most natural thing in the world to do right now.

Why was he still hesitating? He wanted this. Chase wanted this. They were both rational, consenting adults who liked each other and would doubtlessly like touching each other just as much, and the timeline would probably be just fine for it.

Oh. Right. It's that fucking 'probably.'

A frustrated noise escaped his throat as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "Chase. I just… We're on the same page here, finally; I get what you're saying and…" He took a deep breath. "You're right. I do want…this."

Jack didn't have to look, Chase's smug grin was practically tangible and he rushed forward before he could say a word.

"But what if it's not safe?" he demanded. "What if we…and it does screw something up?"

The hand around his arm began stroking, slow and unmistakably affectionate.

"I don't believe it will," Chase said gently. "I've outlined my reasons already. But ultimately, it is your choice."

And my existence on the line if I screw up, a traitorous part of his brain muttered.

Clearly still seeing his hesitation, Chase sighed lightly. "Jack, has it occurred to you that the spell that brought you here is Xiaolin in origin?"

Considering it had been a Xiaolin master monk who'd cast it? "Yeah…"

"And being Xiaolin, how dangerous do you think it could be to you?" Chase wondered. "Do you really think white magic could destroy you?"

Jack drew up short. He'd never considered that before.

"I've seen Xiaolin spells. Their authors are always disproportionately concerned with safety. As a discipline, Heylin magic expects its wielders to be experts and to determine the consequences for themselves but Xiaolin…it panders to the uninformed."

"Kid gloves," Jack muttered, only half-listening now as he processed this new perspective.

Luckily Chase took the meaning of his phrase correctly without needing clarification. "Exactly. The monks who create these spells expect or at least allow for the possibility that they will be used by children, who need endless caveats and guidelines."

Jack knew firsthand that was true. He'd been snooping in the temple archives dozens of times and seen hundreds of spell scrolls and not a single one he'd seen had been anywhere close to 'brief.'

In fact, some of the heavier duty magicks were even protected, written piecemeal so that they seemed coherent, but wouldn't function unless you could also decode the subtle hieroglyphs within the characters that explained the rest of it.

Years of eavesdropping had eventually helped Jack figure out that it was a cipher taught only to those who achieved the rank of Master Monk— which had been years too late to stop Jack because at the time he had been a curious and very bored twelve-year-old genius and had puzzled it out in a week.

But that was beside the point.

The point was that Chase was right yet again, telling him, "It's incredibly unlikely that a Xiaolin spell you were drawn into on accident could do anything to hurt you. The only thing you need be concerned with is the changed future and as I've pointed out, there's not much you can do to it now."

"Yeah… Yeah," with growing confidence, "that's true."

"That said. If you can sit beside me like this, with my hands on your body," and the palm on his thigh was back, in lovely counterpoint to the one still stroking his arm, "and still say you're too scared, you know I will leave you be. I swear that on my honor."

Even under the definite notes of flirting, Chase's tone was too sincere for Jack to think otherwise. "I know," he said.

"So…" Chase's eyes glinted in the light of the bedroom. "Will you push me away?"

That impossible question again.

And this time, Jack could give the answer he'd wanted to all along.

Feeling crazy and stupid and impulsive and not caring even a little, Jack grabbed onto Chase and kissed him as hard as he could.

It was a near thing that Jack didn't just go limp when Chase kissed back instantly, the combination of relief and excitement that bubbled up heady enough to make him dizzy. Chase's arms were suddenly twisting around him, dragging him in closer and Jack shivered, feeling caught in the best way.

The first brush of tongue against Jack's lip was a jolt of electricity.

He inhaled sharply and pulled back, just a little, breathing heavily. It seemed that Chase had managed to pull him all the way into his lap, so it was from straddling Chase's thighs that he quipped, "You won't take it personally that I can't spend the night, will you?"

Chase was grinning broadly at him, fangs clearly visible and catlike eyes glowing up at him. He looked possessively, delightedly wicked.

"I'll take you anyway," he said. "For as long as I can keep you."

And then he leaned in for another kiss.

This time, Jack didn't hestitate to open for him, bracing his hands against pauldroned shoulders as Chase's hot tongue slid in alongside his own. Jack moaned into his mouth and Chase growled, and then abruptly the metal beneath Jack's fingers was only warm dark silk.

Distantly, he realized Chase had magicked away his armor instead of bothering with the manual clasps and ties, and the knowledge that Chase was just as eager for this as he was lit a fire in him.

Jack clung harder to Chase, reveling in the feel of all the newly exposed planes of the man's body even as he fumbled for the fastening of his shirt, hoping to make them even more exposed.

Chase caught his hand and nipped his bottom lip. "Oh no," he said in a low voice, dripping down Jack's spine like molasses. "You will not rush me, Jack. I'm going to take my time."

Jack shuddered and made a noise that sounded a little like 'hngh.'

In a whirl and a slow surrender to gravity, Jack found himself lowered onto the bed with careful tenderness that would have been a lot more touching if his heart hadn't been picking up speed and directing bloodflow everywhere but his brain.

Naturally, that part of him was thrilled when Chase crawled on top of him and sat astride his hips, staring down at him with undeniable hunger.

"Do you have any idea what it was like?" he wondered. "The waiting?"

Jack felt he had plenty of waiting of his own under his belt, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was argue. "Probably not," he breathed, reaching up to pull Chase back onto him.

But Chase was not to be moved. He planted one hand just beside Jack's head and leaned over him, shading Jack's face when his hair fell forward around them like a curtain. The fingers of his other hand lighted on Jack's collarbone, trailing slowly downward.

"And you, such a tease," Chase purred, circling his own emblem on Jack's chest. "Wearing the clothes I laid out for you…" He leaned in further, inhaling against his throat. "Smelling like me… You've been driving me crazy all night."

Jack squeaked, unprepared for the drag of sharp teeth at the base of his neck.

"You're worse," he gasped, Chase's fingers finally slipping into his clothing and opening it. "You're so, so, so much worse, you did it on purpose."

"I did," Chase agreed. "I wanted to push you. I wanted to make this happen." He paused, eyes roving over Jack's bare torso.

Jack had only half a second to wonder if he should start feeling self-conscious before Chase said, "So you are this color all over. Gods, you're beautiful."

Suddenly it seemed like a gross unfairness that Chase still had his shirt on. Jack finished shucking his own and got to tugging at Chase's, grumbling, "Come on, the last time I saw you shirtless you were a monk, help me out here."

Chase laughed, "So impatient," but he shrugged the silk off and cast it aside, exposing himself to Jack's gaze.

As before Jack was struck dumb by Chase's utterly unfair physique, hard ridges where Jack had only flat planes; cords of muscle beneath fine golden skin that made Jack's fingers itch.

He only snapped out of it when Chase moved again, bringing his lips up to Jack's ear to whisper, "Go ahead. Touch me all you like."

Jack was pretty sure his hands reacted before he'd even fully processed the permission, grasping even as Chase slotted their mouths back together for a deep, sinful kiss.

Chase was hot and solid beneath his roving palms, like living stone and the thought made Jack groan against his lips when Chase shifted, parting his legs with ease and settling firmly in between them.

Chase was exactly where he ought to be and Jack wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon.

The kiss broke when Chase's mouth latched seamlessly onto Jack's shoulder, freeing Jack's up to babble.

"God, fuck, Chase, I wanted—"

Chase, agreeably sucking a bruise into his flesh, only hummed in response and began pulling at their trousers.

It was exactly what Jack wanted, fewer clothes, but suddenly it was very important that he explained, to make Chase understand the decreasingly coherent thoughts running through his head.

"I always wanted," he huffed, helping kick off his pants, "so much, and I, you—"

He cut off with a gasp as the movement brought his groin into delicious, perfect contact with Chase's and nothing could've stopped him from bucking up again.

Chase hissed, holding his hips down to the bed with one hand and okay, maybe Chase could stop him, but Jack couldn't think why he'd want to because that had only been a taste, how much better could more be?

"I never thought," Jack breathed fervently, verging on a whimper, "I never thought this could—"

"Shhhhh," Chase hushed him, cupping his face in both hands. His pupils were so blown that he looked almost human and Jack stilled to see it; to see how much Chase was right here with him.

"It's alright," he promised. "We can have this."

Jack believed him. He believed him completely.

He nodded jerkily and Chase's hands left his face, one bracing against the mattress and the other slipping downwards in the narrow space between their bellies.

Even expecting it, nothing could have prepared Jack for the touch of the firm, somehow wet hand on his cock, the very first that wasn't his own and it was amazing.

His moan quickly turned into a yelp when he felt Chase's erection, hot and hard thrusting up against his own, Chase expertly catching both of them in hand and the pressure alone was a million times better than anything Jack had done on his own.

"Fuck," he cursed, hips jerking, "fuck, let me—"

But then Chase started moving and Jack was too overwhelmed to do anything, just barely able to kiss back when Chase claimed his mouth again in a rough, deep kiss. It felt like a barrage on his senses of friction and heat and slick and Jack's pleasure spiraled faster than it ever had until he was coming hard embarrassingly soon, crying out against Chase's lips.

After that, Jack lost track of things for a bit. He felt Chase pull back and heard him snarl and then Chase was lying next to him, breathing heavily.

Through the haze of post-orgasmic endorphins Jack stared at the ceiling as two things slowly dawned on him.

Holy crap, I just had sex with Chase Young, which was accompanied by a gleeful little burst of disbelieving satisfaction, and then several moments after that, Wow, that was quick, which was a decidedly less gleeful revelation.

"Sorry," he blurted out, and was about to make excuses for himself when Chase startled him by laughing out loud.

"You're ridiculous," Chase told him, sounding admittedly fond as he said it. "Are you actually apologizing to me for an orgasm?"

"What? No! I'm not…That's not… It was just…" supposed to last longer than that, right? At least the guys in porn did… But sprawled out next to his long-time idol and crush, first time lover, Jack couldn't quite bring himself to say the words and ask that question.

Thankfully, it seemed sex was something that put Chase in a good mood because he took pity on Jack. "You think you were the only one who enjoyed that?" he teased, sitting up beside him. "Or do you usually come that much on your own?"

Jack glanced down at where Chase gestured, to the cooling mess on his stomach, and it was definitely…more than his usual. Sure enough, Chase's (impressive) length was just as soft as his.

"Oh."

I did that, he thought in disbelief. Then again with considerable pride, I did that.

"That was…" he went to say, but then stalled out for an appropriate adjective. There were so many he could use for what had just happened, but none of them seemed to capture what he wanted to say.

"Worth the wait?"

That. Yes.

"Yeah," Jack said softly, with more honesty than he usually gave anything. "Definitely."

And then naturally, the sheer candor of the admission made him feel more vulnerable than being post-coitally nude next to an immortal dragonlord and Jack had to immediately cover it with something lighter.

"I don't suppose you could find me a towel somewhere around here?" he asked with a pageant-worthy grin.

"Hmmm, I could," Chase mused, lounging on his side. "But why would I?"

Jack blinked. "Uh. To…clean this off?"

"Jack… You are laboring under quite the misapprehension."

"I am?"

"Yes. You seem to think I'm done with you already." Chase's grin was a shark-smile. "Far from it."

Jack caught the meaning clearly, but his reply was considerably less clear. "Oh. Oh, you… Oh."

Surprisingly, it didn't make Chase retract his statement. Instead he chuckled and said, "Yes, Jack, oh. And don't worry too much about the mess. I can think of a few ways to tidy up that are far more…entertaining than a towel."

Jack opened his mouth to ask, but Chase was already getting up, prowling back over to his side of the bed and hovering above him. Then his head was lowering and—

Jack's eyes widened. That was definitely a tongue.

Shit, he thought with delight, I am in way over my head.

And for once, Jack didn't mind in the slightest.

-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: So, most of that long wait? Was this chapters fault, for the record. It gave me a lot of trouble but in the end, I think it was worth it! XD

As for the flowers that appeared in Chase's garden, we have:

- Aster, representing patience

- Carnations of light red and dark red, symbolizing pride, love, and admiration

- Lily of the valley for the return of happiness

- Daisies meaning loyal love and new beginnings

- And finally, amaryllis for worth beyond beauty

But anyway, there you are, everybody! What you've all (presumably) been waiting for! The idiots have finally talked to each other and worked it out. ;P

Again, my apologies for taking so damn long to get this update out, but thank you all for sticking with me and continuing to comment on the fic and letting me know how much you wanted me to continue it, it was really inspiring to see those comments (and fanart, a shoutout to the amazing c2ndy2c1d!) when I couldn't make myself write.

That said, there's plenty more of this fic to come so I hope you'll all continue to stick with me, even when I'm terrible at updating, because this fic will never be an abandoned WIP!

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! :D